


seeing blind

by hold_onto_your_heart



Series: Without Hesitation [2]
Category: Ocean's (Movies), Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Development, F/F, Female Friendship, Fluff, Heist Wives, Marriage, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-06 21:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hold_onto_your_heart/pseuds/hold_onto_your_heart
Summary: Debbie and Lou learn to love with their whole heart. Picks up directly after 'Without Hesitation'.





	1. i

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is 100% fluff. title is from the song of the same name by niall horan, shamelessly lifted from @asexualizing's lou/debbie playlist (which i wrote most of this fic to and definitely recommend).

Dawn rises early as the couple sleep, Debbie curled up towards Lou even on upright pillows. Their thin curtains do not offer much protection from the light of the east, leaving streaks of soft pinks and oranges to bathe the room and frame the pair. It does not take more than a couple of hours from when the light first crept in for the sun to rouse Lou. Painkillers subsiding, she wakes up one cell at a time. She does not fully rise, instead favouring the comfort of the cotton sheets and the presence of Debbie, whom she watches. It is a gaze of fondness, love pervading the very air of the room. Their time together has been so fraught; this is one moment of peace Lou secretly yearns for. She spends her time thinking about Debbie. That’s it. There is nothing else to it. She loves Debbie, despite all their flaws, her heart soaring and all that mushy romantic shit she hates. Mostly hates. Really, should their team throw them a breakfast full of balloon hearts and saccharine pancakes (and she knows Daphne would), Lou would deny all romance with such frost that the room would freeze over. But here in this bed, she would do a hell of a lot for Debbie.  _ ‘God,’  _ She thinks,  _ ‘How the hell did I not see this before?’ _

 

Eventually, Debbie wakes up. Her eyes snap open, but as soon as she sees Lou staring at her, a smile bursts free and she shuts her eyes again. Debbie lets herself wake up slowly as Lou did, a habit she is finding hard to return too after the alertness she adopted while sleeping in prison. Bed hair at all angles, Debbie opens her eyes more slowly this time, knowing that if Lou is looking at her like that then she has to elongate the time as much as she can. She’s not the only one whose tender moments are few and far between. “Hello.” Debbie starts.

Lou smiles back, answering with much more than, “Good morning.”

“It is with you around.” 

Lou’s first instinct to scoff is paired with a twinge in her chest she only half tells herself is her broken rib, so she lets that one slide.

 

And this is how Debbie knows she’s got her, hook, line, and sinker. Lou’s not going to leave, voluntarily, again. Not that she wants to have reeled Lou in, or captured in anway - who would want to cage this majesty? They are partners, half of each other but one hundred percent their own. But, she thinks, she can be smug about making stone cold Lou melt. That privilege is hers and hers alone. Neither know what to say after that, though. This intimacy is new even for them and they both don’t want to ruin what twenty years built. So they don’t; they sit and bask in the morning warmth. The first light of something new. 

 

Sounds of movement and plates clinking resonate from downstairs. One of their team is awake. There hasn’t been less than two of them in the loft at all times since Lou’s ‘accident’, with Debbie being a constant too. As soon as they heard of Lou’s injuries, they had all flocked back to New York: homing pigeons coming to roost with messages of their individual kinds of affection on their wings. Debbie reaches over Lou, about to check the time and burst their bubble, but Lou catches her wrist to stop her. Before she can think, before she can back out, because all of her mind is preoccupied with is Debbie and how she doesn’t ever want to let go, she blurts out, “Marry me?”

 

“Ok.” No hesitation lingers between Lou’s question and Debbie’s reply; Debbie does not have to think about it to know her answer. They’re partners in crime, and they both never have any intention of leaving after so many years apart, so why not make it legal?

“Wow. I had no idea what you were going to say to that.” She says as if she’s not Lou Miller, infamous for not partaking in a con (or anything, really) if she wasn’t secure in how exactly it was going to happen.

“I could say the same. We don’t even have a ring.” 

“Not yet.” The twinkle in Lou’s eyes is enough of a diamond for two rings.

“Looks like we have to go shopping when you’re all healed.”

“I love your idea of shopping.”

 

And now, just before the end of their quiet morning, Debbie asks, “Why now?”. Her tone and face are neutral, yet Lou is past questioning their relationship. She does take a moment though, to gather herself so she doesn’t spill out every single about Deborah Ocean that she loves. Debbie may have created a flaw within her that enjoys romance, but she still draws the line at romantic speeches.

“We spent so much time without each other, without really knowing what we felt or what we wanted. I don’t want that again.” She even shrugs, trying to make herself nonchalant. “Besides, spousal immunity might come in handy.”

Debbie rolls her eyes and playfully swats Lou’s hand away.

 

* * *

 

The loft comes alive every morning, whether it just be three women or all eight. They breakfast together with no talk of marriage; it is unspoken between Lou and Debbie that the proposal is just for them for a little while. No-one else appears to suspect anything, although Amita comments on how Lou is less grumpy now. At Constance’s panicked look - even hinting that Lou is in a bad mood usually makes it worse - Lou ascribes it to the painkillers kicking in. It is just as odd for Lou to have so many people around as it is for Debbie to do day-to-day life, minus bill paying. 

 

Eventually time does its job and as the seasons change to autumn, Lou’s ribs heal. Their team scatters again, living their own multi-millionaire lives and only dropping round occasionally. One early week in September arrives when Lou asks, “So, ring shopping?”

They are lounging in the loft, Debbie slightly more adjusted to the simple life. “Well, we did sell all the diamonds.”

They’re out of the door in seconds.

 

New York is kind to them; browning leaves drift to the ground in between sunbeams. They even get a few arrogant businessmen barge into them even though they could easily move, practically Debbie his wallet every time. Scouting around ring shops, the pair spare no expense: while they could easily target stores with cut prices or even spend the day planning to steal their own engagement rings, they can afford to not be that stingy. Debbie wants this wedding - all areas of it - to be valid, making it possibly one of the most genuine things in her life. 

 

So neither mind the extortionate prices presented to them, not least when Lou finds her faultless engagement ring. Somewhere around the corner from 5th Avenue nestles a small jewellers, not quite old enough to be called vintage, where a twisted halo engagement sits, pride of place, on a cushion in the middle of the window. Along one twist of the white gold band sits numerous smaller diamonds, framing the large, clear-cut diamond in the middle. Lou’s pupils blow as she feasts her eyes upon this ring that has her standing stock still in the middle of the street.

“It’s perfect.” Debbie smiles up at Lou. 

Lou manages to wrestle her eyes away from it. “I never took myself as an engagement ring person.”

“Well, this one suits you.” Lou raises an eyebrow in question. “It’s sleek, it stands out… and it’s got its own brand of dramatic.”

Grinning despite herself, Lou playfully shoves Debbie. “I’m not dramatic.”

“No, but your fashion sense doesn’t say that. Got any room left on your fingers for this?”

“Come on,  _ baby. _ ” Drawling out the last word only half-sarcastically, Lou takes Debbie by the hand and leads them into the shop, heading directly for the ring. 

 

The couple are out of the shop again in minutes, Lou already knowing her ring size thanks to the many that adorn her fingers. Debbie’s search takes much longer, the time being spent on it stretching further and further, when both women start to get hungry and a little frustrated. 

“You sure we should get it today? We could regroup, look online…” Lou suggests as the pair walk out of yet another unsuccessful shop.

“No,” Debbie vehemently shakes her head. “No I want to see it, to feel it…”

“Hey,” Lou stops them both, one hand on Debbie’s, “You don’t have to prove anything, okay?” Her tone is surprisingly soft.

“I’m not trying to! What, do you think I’m going to leave? Is that why you asked me to marry you in the first place?” Her words surprise both of them.

“No, no Deb, I asked you  _ because  _ I knew you weren’t going to leave.” Yet Lou knows better than to let her voice sharpen, knows that both of them will get caught on the edges. She’s not too sure where Debbie’s defensiveness has come from, but she knows that they can work it out in time.

A sigh rushes from Debbie. “I’m sorry. I’m grouchy and tired and…” She shrugs. “I don’t know. I just want to find this ring.”

“Ok baby.” Lou draws her in close, pressing a kiss to her cheek, happily. Both now know when to back down from a fight, when it’s not worth it. It’s a product of their growth, maybe, they don’t need the fighting and the clawing at each other to know they both still want the relationship, want the passion and the tension perpetually between them. Two decades of on and off and unsure or unrequited emotions took its toll on them, leading way to the (relatively) easy life they’re both choosing now. “It’s ok. We’ll find it.”

 

Before the late afternoon chill of autumn can set in, the clinking of Lou’s various necklaces conjure a memory for her. When Debbie was in prison, Lou expanded her legal jewellery collection considerably, with an independent traders’ being her main choice. “Hey,” She whispers in the curve of Debbie’s ear, “I’ve got a place in mind.”

  
  


It’s beautiful. The clarity of the pav é diamonds is uncommon in a place like this, a low light back room in the middle of nowhere. “You know,” Debbie starts, eyes misty at the thought of having this ring on her finger, “I wasn’t sure how we could find a proper engagement ring in a place like this, but never mind. We’ve got it.” The white gold ring sits opposite them, shining in what little light there is. Three medium-size diamonds sit proudly in the centre, surrounded on both sides by smaller diamonds. “How did you know about this?”

Lou smirks. “Stumbled upon this place one night, looking for a bar. It had replaced an old haunt. They started off trying to sell stock like this, but it always was too pricey. Eventually they moved on, sold me half my wardrobe, but never managed to shift all of its original stock. I wasn’t completely sure they’d have anything left that you’d like, but it was worth a shot.”

Debbie reached round to kiss her, hands cupping Lou’s face. They’re both aware this is one of the last times their ring fingers will be bare, and the thought makes them kiss a little harder.

“Thank you.” Debbie says as they pull apart. “I love it.”

 

They gladly pay and exit the shop, both wearing their respective rings; the city of New York and all its perfect strangers the first witness to their shared wedding plans. On the walk home talks of everything and nothing fills the air, from eight-year-old Debbie’s thoughts of an extravagant wedding involving many precious gemstones from her successful career as a jewellery criminal to how long it will take the rest of the team to notice. Despite the longing looks both of them share at the multiple Chinese takeaways they pass, the couple continue homebound, where Daphne has insisted on having all eight women of the team together to eat before she goes to shoot her next film.

 

The sun is threatening to set behind the skyscraper skyline by the time Lou and Debbie return to the loft. “Finally!” Daphne greets them as they enter, somewhere between kissing them and admonishing them for being late. “I thought you would never come!”

“Daphne, this is my loft.” Lou replies flatly, but not entirely without humour.

Salads, soups, and roti are among the many dishes presented on the dinner table (some more nicely than others - Rose’s contribution of pasta salads are much messier than Tammy’s perfectly neat fish pie) in a quasi buffet. Constance dishes out paper plates (to save on the washing up), but falters slightly when she reaches Debbie. She’s a professional of course, so she swings back handing out more plates after half a second, but it’s her career as a pickpocket that is exactly why she notices the ring. Her income used to rely upon finding the best targets once upon a time, and while she was and still is above stealing wedding rings, she can definitely appreciate them. Wide-eyed, her gaze moves from the engagement ring to Debbie’s face, questioning - _ ‘you’re marriage material?’  _

 

Debbie only smirks back.

“Uh be right back!” Constance yells, running off to her bedroom. Before she can get her skateboard out to try to work out the extra energy, her phone lights up with a message from Amita.

_ ‘dID YOU SEE THAT??’ _

_ ‘THE RING???????????’  _ Constance messages back, barely holding in a scream.

_ ‘THOSE ARE ENGAGEMENT RINGS!!!1!!’ _ Constance is too overwhelmed to send a sarcastic message back about needing the jewellry expert to identify engagement rings for her. Instead she begins to type a message, typos abound, but is interrupted by another message from Amita.  _ ‘They’re getting suspicious, come back out, maybe they’ll make the announcement at dinner xx’ _

 

Constance does as she’s told for once, and returns to the communal area to partake in their usual banter and food for the night, albeit more jittery than usual. She doesn’t have to wait for too long however, as not even two minutes later Tammy is midway through passing Debbie a kebab when she gasps sharply. “Oh my god,” She exclaims. “Is that…”

Lou slithers an arm around Debbie’s shoulder, her left hand deliberately on show. “I have no idea what you’re on about Tam-Tam.”

“Oh my god!” Tammy repeats, halfway to crying with the kebab hanging limp in her hand. “Are you getting  _ married? _ ”

Somewhere under the clamour of noise Debbie and Lou manage to reply in the affirmative. Rose gushes over them, saying about how she could tell something was different about them tonight because they carried themselves differently, and there was a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’ about the finish to their outfits. And then she gushes over Debbie and Lou and how much they are loved, and Daphne bursts into tears between repeats of ‘I knew it!’ Everyone is too overjoyed to eat, although Nine Ball steals bits of others’ kebabs while they’re still trying to compose themselves, smirking as she goes.

 

“What about you Nine? Did you figure it out from day one or were just as clueless as Tammy?”

A soft protest from Tammy is hushed as Nine Ball speaks. “I’ve known since you bought the rings earlier today. I have an alert set up for suspicious activity on our accounts, and in Debbie’s case it sends an alert every time she pays for something that isn’t food.” Laughter accompanies the sound of wedding planning. Not that any of the wedding planning is currently being carried out by the actual brides, but they don’t mind. They just have to lower everyone’s expectations when they veer of the idea of ‘not doing anything big’, which leaves Daphne forlorn after an assertive rejection of her horse and carriage idea. Nothing can stop Rose mentally taking their measurements at that dinner table though, but Debbie and Lou assure her that they wouldn’t want anyone else making their wedding outfits. As long as they are heavily involved in the design process of course; Rose may be their friend but they can’t say they want a return of her Edwardian cuffs. 

 

Time winds on until Daphne has to leave, reluctant as she is, so she can sleep before her early flight. Tammy leaves with her, while the rest of them fight back yawns through the heavy haze of spices still in the air. Amusingly, Rose won’t let Lou and Debbie get up, insisting that they relax while the others tidy up. “Think of it as an early wedding present!” She says as she totters about the kitchen, slightly tipsy. In the end Constance and Amita take over the last of the tidying up while Nine Ball helps Rose into a cab and goes with her to make sure she gets home safely. 

 

“So,” Lou asserts as she shuts the door behind her, back pressed against the wood, “They’re all gone now baby.”

Debbie raises an eyebrow from where she sits on the couch across the room, legs slightly splayed. “And your ribs are all healed.”

“Hm,” hums Lou, licking her lips as she saunters over to Debbie. “Looks like I need to  _ work them out. _ ” Standing between Debbie’s legs, Lou could feel the heat rolling from her. 

“Well,” Debbie settles further down into the couch and traces Lou’s jacket, lightly fingering its silk folds. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lou's ring: https://www.bluenile.com/build-your-own-ring/petite-twisted-halo-diamond-ring-in-14k-white-gold_49869?elem=img&track=product&vtype=sample  
> debbie's ring: https://www.bluenile.com/build-your-own-three-stone-ring/three-stone-pave-diamond-engagement-ring-14k-white-gold_58245?elem=img&track=product&vtype=sample  
> yes, i micromanaged the hell out of this fic. it has a pinterest board (which i'll link to at the end).


	2. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an unconventional wedding for an unconventional couple

Despite how laid-back Lou and Debbie are about their upcoming nuptials - not that they’ve even set a date - they’re still surrounded by a whirlwind of plans about their marriage. Between back-to-back appointments with Rose and their own ‘business’ about the city, sometimes the couple can’t get away from others until it’s 4am and their only glimpse of their partner is a silhouette in the grey of pre-morning. It’s a cycle of goodnights and ghostly touches.

 

Frustrated, Debbie ambushes Lou as soon as she gets back to the loft one night, avoiding the impending phone call from Rose. “I have an idea.”

Taken aback, Lou doesn’t answer for a minute, too lost in Debbie’s dark gaze. As enthusiastic as she is to Debbie looking at her like _that_ in a semi-public corridor, Lou can tell that sex (or lack of it) isn’t what has gotten Debbie so riled up, or not the entire reason, at least. “I think I like this idea already.” She adopts a sultry tone.

“We haven’t had time to ourselves for weeks,” Debbie begins in more of a whiny growl than a sexy one, delaying their seduction for a few more minutes. “We should remedy that.”

“Well, what do you have in mind?”

 

Their plotting is interrupted half an hour later by the shrill ringing of Debbie’s phone. It’s Rose, calling to try to change their mind on the lack of bridemaids’ dresses. Debbie and Lou aren’t sure they even want bridesmaids. Rose can’t get halfway into her spiel when Debbie cuts her off with a quick, “Hey, we’re going away for a few days, do you think you can let the others know if they try to contact us?” She assumes it will be satisfactory enough, most of the time Lou doesn’t inform them she’s crossing the country.

“Ok.” Rose replies, halted after her abrupt interruption. “Don’t get married without us though!” She jokes, laughing off the oddity.

“We won’t.” Debbie promises. “We’ll see you when we get back.” With a goodbye from Rose and the click signalling the end of the call, Debbie and Lou grin at each other, plans still formulating in their minds.

And that’s how Debbie ends up in a marina bar one night, fluttering her eyes at a sharply-dressed man opposite her. He is a big mark for a small con: a multi-millionaire when really all Lou and Debbie were interested in was his yacht. And maybe his watch, if only to pin it on someone else to divert suspicion. Steadily supplying him with alcohol, she draws him in with every bat of her eyelashes until he invites her back to his hotel room, full of self-importance. Somewhere between the bar and the hotel he stumbles to the ground, giving Debbie the opportunity to surreptitiously lift his yacht key that he had been showing off all night. Leaving him drunk enough to forget her, Debbie saunters back to the marina one yacht richer.

 

Lou is already on the deck, reclining on a deckchair in a position only she can find comfortable. Stepping on board, Debbie spins the keys on her finger, laughing as she goes.

“Let’s get out of here, Captain Miller.” Dangerous as it is at night, the couple set off anyway, both having experience with boating in some (illegal) way or another. Plus, Constance has been bestowing advanced first aid training on them since Lou’s accident, startling them all with her obvious worry. Once out of view of the city, Debbie removes her black wig, tossing out her hair behind her and laughing in the sea breeze. She comes to rest next to where Lou is steering, two glasses of non-alcoholic champagne in hand. “To us.” She raises her own glass while Lou does the same.

“To us.” Lou echoes. “And this fifty-fucking-foot yacht!”

Their carefree laughter disperses into the darkness, resting among the twinkling lights of the stars and the coastline.

 

Days of fresh sea air and sun soaks up the frustrations from Lou and Debbie’s skin. With only one stop, they make it to Martha’s Vineyard in only three days. The late September air is comforts them, only cool when the wind blows. The island is beautiful when it’s relatively free of tourists, all lush green grass and the aroma of cooking seafood. Having docked the yacht, Debbie and Lou make their way to their hotel, paid for with a debit card unmonitored by Nine Ball. Not that they intend to leave the island without that money returned to them, but they still don’t want anyone else to know where they are. Here they can just be Lou and Debbie, partners in every way, without everyone else knowing exactly which ways.

 

“So,” Lou says conversationally as she drops their bag in their room, “Like it baby?”

“Like it?” Debbie steps closer, her hands settling on Lou’s toned arms, “Honey I love it.”

Lou smiles, a gentle one that only appears around Debbie, before kissing her. “I love you.” She says when they split apart.

“Oh?” Debbie raises an eyebrow. “Who are you and what have you done with my Lou?”

“What can I say Ocean, I’ve gone soft.” answers Lou, tone still light as her heart catches at ‘my Lou’. She doesn’t admit her love often, usually only when Debbie needs reassurance or when she does something incredibly hot, but here she thinks she could burst with all that she feels. Thoughts of days of just them brings up all kinds of emotions Lou pretends she doesn’t have when she’s not alone.

“Hm.” Debbie licks her lips. “I think I like this soft Lou. Maybe you can show me more?”

“Certainly.” Lou softly pushes Debbie down onto the bed, running her arms down Debbie’s body before sinking to her knees. “It would be my pleasure.”

 

* * *

 

“Do you want to get married?” Debbie asks, one hand in Lou’s as the midday sun filters through their curtains.

“Do you mean right now?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.” Lou’s answer causes Debbie to turn her head to look at her, a mix of their hair splayed out between them.

“Really?”

“No, I said yes because I meant no.” Lou can’t help her sarcasm.

Debbie doesn’t respond in kind, too full of restlessness. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”

 

They don’t mean to elope. Yet everything about their engagement so far has been spontaneous so they go for it. It’s really Rose’s fault for putting the idea in their heads; ever since her comment both Lou and Debbie had the same, but separate, idea of putting the various documents needed for marriage into their bag. Lou put hers in first, and when Debbie saw the tattered birth certificate (a testament to a smart kid with a bad past that Lou mostly left to rot) in the bottom of their duffel bag, she knew there wasn’t any question about it. She was a little more hesitant, wanting her friends and family around her, but in this bed with Lou she knows that she can have both. This peace they bathe in won’t be the same when they get back to New York, city of ghosts and new beginnings and loud friends, and they want something that is for them and them only, so only twenty six hours into their time on the island they find themselves at the registry office, handing over twenty-five dollars for marriage licenses.

 

Unfortunately it takes three days for the marriage license to be approved, leaving the couple in the lobby of the registry office a little stunned with pent-up momentum.

“Well,” Lou says, not even half an hour after their decision to get married now, “That was anticlimactic.”

“Yeah.” Debbie nods, frowning a little. “How did we forget that we’d have to wait?”

Lou snorts at the thought that they had successfully pulled off the most audacious jewellery heist in recent history but are somehow stalled by local government bureaucracy. “We’ve got to find something to do in the meantime.” She turns to Debbie, their hands still interlinked. “I’ve always wanted to try parasailing.”

 

The three days pass quickly, helped along by various outrageous sports the couple drag each other into. Planning this wedding doesn’t involve more than hiring a marriage officiant in the registry office and asking the hotel receptionist to be their witness, so when they get to the registry office and their officiant asks them for their wedding rings, they simply hand over their engagement ones. “You know when I was little and thought about getting married,” Debbie starts speaking as their officiant leads them into their rented room, “I always thought it would be a grand affair, surrounded by all the family.”

“And now you’re in a little office in Massachusetts, not even wearing Gucci.” Lou doesn’t need to ask what happened, already aware of Debbie’s disillusionment with her father and his shady associates.

“This blouse is Prada I’ll have you know.” Debbie replies, swishing her loose white sleeve around. “Besides, I prefer this.”

Lou’s only answer is a summer smile as they reach the glass room in the town hall, rainbows of colours refracting around the room and framing them in heavenly light.

 

“Are you ready to begin?” Their officiant asks, peering curiously at the empty room. At their nods, the officiant begins. “We are gathered here today to join Louise and Deborah in matrimony…” His voice is drowned out to the couple as they choose to look at each other instead, empty hands clasped together. Debbie suddenly feels slightly nervous even though she knows she doesn’t want to be anywhere else, or _with_ anyone else. As long as she is with Lou, she doesn’t care. Lou, in her skintight leather trousers and aqua shirt, can’t take her eyes away from Debbie even if she wants to.

 

“Will you, Deborah have Louise to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort and keep her, and forsaking all others remain true to her as long as you both shall live?”  
“I will.” Debbie’s voice is stronger than she expects it to be, but it still conveys how much love she keeps in her heart.

“Will you, Louise have Deborah to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort and keep her, and forsaking all others remain true to her as long as you both shall live?”  
“I will.”

“Now that you have declared your intentions, I invite you to share your vows with one another.” He turns to Debbie first.

“Right.” Debbie takes a preparatory breath, smiling away any rogue stutters. They haven’t officially prepared anything, but Debbie thought about more than just the Toussaint when she was in prison. “Lou, you’re my partner. Always have been. I may not have gotten it right all the time, but I know now that we are never letting go of each other. I’ve never met anyone else like you, never loved anyone else quite like you and… I don’t think I can. I love you, even though we’ve fought and you make me so angry sometimes and you don’t ever turn the heating on high enough.” They laugh then, a little chuckle before they choke on tension. “But you ground me, always bring me back to myself when I need it, and I wouldn’t be here today without you. I promise to love you like you have loved me all this time.”

 

Silence flows between the party in the next moment, Lou and Debbie’s hearts threatening to burst at Debbie’s honesty. When it becomes clear Debbie is finished, the officiant turns to Lou.

“Wow, Ocean, how can I top that?” She starts, creating time to gather her thoughts from the in between scenes of their lives; from the nights when she stands side-by-side at the bathroom sink with Debbie while they brush their teeth, to the rush of having Debbie’s arms wrapped around her waist as they escape the scene of their crime on her motorbike. “We’ve had each others’ backs for the past twenty years, even when we thought we hadn’t. I’ve loved you for the past twenty years, even when I thought I didn’t. It took me until I drove myself into a car for you to put words to it, but I fell for you hard and fast Debbie Ocean, and I never looked back. I’ve never not wanted you in my life, not even when you do stupid things like run off without me or leave all your dirty mugs on the bedside table.” Lou halts for a second to lamely attempt to get her racing heart under control. “I love you too, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I promise to continue to keep you grounded, and to cherish you like you deserve.”

 

Neither woman knows how to react to their confessions; even though they know now how they feel about each other, they’ve held back from long declarations of love in favour of the simple actions they are more comfortable with. Luckily they only have to follow what the officiant says when exchanging their familiar rings, so when it comes to ‘You may kiss the bride!’ they aren’t shaking like a tree in a hurricane. And just like that it’s all over, the weepy receptionist already making her way back to the hotel while Lou and Debbie stride down the steps of the town hall, somewhere between shy and tearful laughter.

 

“We did it.” Debbie wide grin verges more towards laughter.

“We did.” Lou confirms, her own voice more shaky than she would like. As much as she asserts herself as someone who is absolutely not a hopeless romantic, she is certainly close to crying herself. “We’re gonna do it again too.”

The couple laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “I can’t believe that; the girls are going to murder us when they find out.”

“Fifty bucks says they don’t figure it out til the day.”

“They better not figure it out until the day!” Debbie exclaims as they round a corner down to a beach.

“Alright then, fifty bucks says Tammy figures it out first.” Lou insists.

“You’re on. Nine Ball’s going to find out first.” Smirking at her wife, Debbie can’t help but reach for a quick kiss, one of many as they enjoy themselves on the rest of their holiday.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look up parasailing on urban dictionary - it's no coincidence that lou wants to do this on holiday. shout-out to the agents of shield fandom for that idea.


	3. iii

By the time Debbie and Lou return to New York two weeks after they left, sun-kissed and smelling of sea breeze after ditching the stolen yacht in Connecticut, their team has amassed another thirty-thousand dollars for their wedding fund, although they seem to be less insistent on planning it all now. Also, Rose’s hair has much more orange in it than before they left, and strangely, so does Constance’s. Tammy jokes that now they know what it feels like to be moms, leaving Debbie and Lou a little exasperated at their homecoming. Well, Debbie is exasperated at the comment, Lou is more mischievous.

 

There is a lot more to wedding planning than either thought, and they’ve already done it once. In the months after their holiday, Amita and Tammy are gifts from the gods in getting every little detail smoothed over. Debbie’s usually the one who can spot everything that could go wrong, but that skill has yet to transfer from planning crimes to planning weddings, and Amita and Tammy have the most experience. Tammy has always said that after the stress of hers she won’t plan another one, but when she considers her past with Lou and Debbie she can’t deny the enthusiasm she has. They’ve all come so far, and her hearts fills with pride when she thinks about the kids they used to be and who they are now. Amita takes pity on the happy couple when Nine Ball tells her that they’ve been searching ‘wedding to-do lists’ in more and more desperate variations, and offers her services as a semi-professional wedding planner. Lou and Debbie have been a little too proud to accept previous offers of help, but one night of torn-out hair leaves them accepting Amita’s offer in a heartbeat. 

 

Amita has been genuinely happy to organise others’ weddings when her mother hasn’t been around to shame her for not having one of her own, so she’s ecstatic to have a role in organising Debbie and Lou’s wedding. She tells them as such, one morning when the four of them meet for wedding planning. “You’re really good at this.” Tammy tells her. “You should consider being a professional wedding planner: they’re cons enough with what they charge. Marriage is expensive.”

Debbie hums in agreement, thinking about the twenty-five dollars she paid for a marriage license. 

 

Nine Ball offers to obtain a valid marriage license for them, completely free of charge, but gets turned down when Lou informs her that they ‘Already have that taken care of.’ She searches for last-minute wedding venues instead, not-so-secretly enjoying herself. For anyone else searching for a spring venue three months before their intended wedding date would be stressful, but Nine Ball handles it the way she handles everything else: relaxed and with a blunt. Daphne helps her in organising the decorations for the place, knowing that Lou and Debbie don’t want anything outrageous, although in her personal opinion she believes that if it were completely up to them, the room would be boringly bare. They’ve got too much on their minds to get stressed about flowers, so she draws up a flow chart for them. Simple questions with easy yes or no choices help them through their moments where they reconsider even having a flashy wedding at all, and besides, Daphne’s excited for their bouquets. 

 

Constance is the one who amazes them all. She announces that she’s actually the best cook of them all, and beats them all in culinary competitions to prove it. Her dietary management skills for others are more superior than anyone could have guessed - she usually lives on odd combinations of flavoured crisps, however she manages to cater for Daphne’s vegan and Tammy’s gluten-free diets as well as work around possible allergies with only two dishes. She surprises them even further when she admits that this is because she sometimes ‘accidentally’ gathers young runaways on the streets and keeps them fed.

 

As promised, Rose creates Debbie and Lou’s outfits. While they were away, she immediately got to work sketching out ideas she thought they would like, so when they get back it only takes a week of collaboration before the final design is completed. Rose is the only one who knows what both of them are wearing, and is constantly amused by Daphne who is always holding back questions about their clothes. Everyone else is shooed away when they dare come near her art. Lou and Debbie end up barely doing anything themselves apart from the guest list and their collaborations with the rest of their team. They know what they want, what they have. Smirks are constantly slapped across their faces; if Tammy hadn’t completely thrown herself into planning this wedding she would have been suspicious. Nine Ball wonders about them sometimes, but doesn’t pry out of respect. She knows it’s going to be an amazing day regardless.

 

The big day arrives much like the day of a heist would: a rush in the week previously, leaving nothing to do in the day before. 

“Baby,” Debbie whispers as the couple lay in bed, shrouded by the darkness of night, curled up next to Lou. “Are you excited?”

Butterflies have been swooping in Lou’s stomach about this since she first saw their wedding rings. “Yeah.” She smiles and turns to meet Debbie’s eyes. “But don’t tell anyone.” Debbie’s answering smile is half-hearted, however. “What is it? Are you getting cold feet? Because I’m sorry to tell you, but it’s a bit late for that.”

“No, it’s,” Debbie begins, taking one of her manicured nails between two fingers, “I just wish Danny were here. I know Rusty and Reuben are coming, but I couldn’t reach Tess…”

“Hey.” Lou tucks a finger under Debbie’s chin. “He’d be so proud of you. I don’t think he would want to miss this for anything.” She kisses the top of Debbie’s head, not seeing the tear slip out.

“He’d be so proud of us finally getting it together.” Debbie laughs a little, trying to disguise a sob. “He was always saying to me when am I going to get off my ass and tell you that I was in love with you. It shocked me to high hell the first time he asked; I didn’t even see it then. But he did.”

Lou grips her a little tighter. “He still sees it now, wherever he is.”

“Yeah.” Debbie gets out through a yawn. “Thank you, Lou.”

“Hey, what are wives for? Now come on sleepyhead, big day tomorrow, we’re going to want as much sleep as we can get.” 

“You’re so domestic already.” The amusement in Debbie’s tone is obvious.

“Shut it, Ocean.”

 

* * *

  
  


Everything actually goes to plan. The morning is dedicated to getting ready - completely separated, in Debbie and Lou’s case - and some light rainfall that stresses out Amita more than it should and reminds Tammy why she hates organising wedding. While they can’t micromanage the weather, it does clear up enough to provide their 1920s pavilion a beautiful sun bath, despite the spring chill. Rose knows good fashion, she sees it on Lou every day, and today is no exception. After all her time studying Lou’s wardrobe, she’s happy with the end result; Lou stands outside the pavilion in her cream three-piece suit, silver flowers and vines patterned onto her lapels matching the silver buttons in a neat vertical line above her diamante belt. It’s light and comfortable as well as (faux) fur-lined to keep her warm in the unpredictable March temperatures. 

 

Lou rocks back and forth on her white heels as she wait for Debbie to arrive, somewhere between nervous and impatient. She’s far from having wedding jitters, but there are so many people around and none of them are her wife. Or soon-to-be wife, as everyone else thinks. Not that she wants to wish the day away either but-

 

Her thoughts cut out, synapses collapsing as Debbie steps out of a car she didn’t even see coming. She sees her legs first, even though her (absolutely gorgeous, in Lou’s opinion) legs are shrouded by her almost-floor length dress. The smooth crepe fabric just kisses the ground, long enough to flatter her body but not too long as to culminate dirt. White lace creeps up from the waist to rest along the top of the A-line dress, with a matching corsage on her wrist. A coat, white and almost as long as the dress presents Debbie as she strides over to Lou, looking as though she were born to wear such splendour without so much as a hair out of place. 

 

“Hey.” Debbie says, looking expectantly at Lou. “You look amazing. Hot as hell.” 

That snaps Lou out of her reverie, although she still looks as though she’s beholding the most precious gem in the world. Then again, she didn’t look at the Toussaint like this. “Speak for yourself.” Her throat is dry, and she hopes it won’t stay that way throughout the ceremony.

“We should probably go in.” Debbie motions inside with her bouquet of eleven red and white roses, prompting Lou into action, holding up her own forgotten bouquet again.

“Right.” Lou answers, finally moving so she and Debbie walk in side-by-side, encompassed on both sides by a small but precious group of guests. Their vows are a blur, with only small modifications to the traditional ones their officiant leads them with. They both start crying when the wedding rings come out even though they’re the only ones who have actually seen them before. Debbie’s simple platinum band has alternating diamonds and rubies set in them in a pavé style, with Lou’s matching except hers holds sapphires instead of rubies. And just like that, they’re married. Again. 

 

Laughing and drinking keeps the rest of the afternoon-turned-evening a daze for Lou and Debbie. They don’t even know where their wedding reception is; some hotel Amita organised for them. They’re grateful that they don’t need to think about anything past each other.

Midway through the evening, just as she is starting to relax, Tammy rushes up to the couple. “Have you gone with the marriage officiant ye- oh!” She slaps herself in the forehead, narrowly missing her flawless makeup. It’s an entertaining sight for everybody, even more so for Lou and Debbie, who actually know what she’s figured out.

“I think she’s got it babe.” Lou whispers in Debbie’s ear, her tone conspiratory. 

“You are, aren’t you!” Tammy exclaims, wondering how she has been so blind all this time.

“Are what?” Amita asks on behalf of everyone else, completely lost.

“You’re already married.” Nine Ball says. Debbie clasps Lou’s hand under the table, partly because she can’t get enough of touching her  _ wife  _ and partly because she believes she’s just won a bet.

Lou shrugs. “It was Rose’s idea.” 

Everyone’s eyes widen comically. Rose’s gasp is so extreme Debbie’s sure someone across the street can hear it. “That was a joke!” Her accent thickens with the intensity of her words.

“Hold up, you got married? When you went away?” Constance interrupts.

“Does this mean that I planned this wedding for  _ nothing?”  _ Amita is somewhere between shock and seething. 

Daphne chimes in, creating a cacophony of noise that Debbie cuts through: “Children, please.” They all fall silent, thirsty for answers. “Yes, we got married when we went to Martha’s Vineyard. It was a spur of the moment thing.”

“Vegas was too tacky.” Lou adds on humourously.

“But we wanted something with everyone with us too. So, here we are.” She leans back in her seat, speech over.

“Just, out of curiosity, Nine Ball,” Lou drawls, surprising Nine Ball with the sudden attention. “When did you figure it out?”

“I suspected when you turned down my offer of a marriage license, but I didn’t actually know until Tammy said it.” 

Lou’s smile can rival the devil’s. “Thank you.” She turns to her wife, and whispers, “Looks like you owe me.” Debbie’s victory grin fails.

 

Someone from the back of the room shouts ‘Dance!’, prompting Tammy back into action. She signals for the start of the wedding playlist, while Lou and Debbie shoot their friends an apologetic look and move to the middle of the dancefloor. The lights dim, and Stevie Nicks’ croon settles a hush over the guests. They are transfixed on the couple in the centre of the room, locked in their own world. 

“You glad we picked Landslide now?” Debbie asks Lou, voice low. Their choice was between Landslide and Go Your Own Way, but when Daphne reacted with abject horror at the thought of having a break-up song as their first dance, their choice was made for them.

“I still feel emotionally exposed.” She quietly grumbles.

“It’s our wedding babe, we’ve been emotionally exposed all day.” 

“Don’t remind me.”

 

The couple settle in silence for a couple more minutes. As the song fades away, a shadow sneaks out of a back door, flashing a proud, if sad smile at Debbie. Her first instinct to reach out to him dies as he’s gone in a second, yet with Lou in her arms she can’t feel melancholy. Not when she knows she’s got this love for the rest of her life. 

 

Evening gives way to night, and their legs ache with the dancing and the joy of the party. Atmosphere set, the couple say their goodbyes as the team send them off in tears. A limo picks them up to deliver to them to an unknown destination to have their wedding night. It’s not necessarily the first night of the rest of their lives, or even their first night as a married couple, but it is the initial part of the closing of one of their most blissful days of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's it! i am accepting prompts/requests for these ocean's 8 (and others) fic, in this verse or not. just drop me a message :)
> 
> lou's suit: https://www.aliexpress.com/item/Formal-Occasion-White-Long-Sleeve-Include-Coat-Pant-Vest-Tie-Men-s-Wedding-Suit-Formal-Bridegroom/32345328882.html  
> lou's wedding ring: https://www.bluenile.com/riviera-sapphire-diamond-ring-platinum_47636?elem=title&track=product  
> debbie's wedding ring: https://www.bluenile.com/riviera-ruby-diamond-ring-platinum_56358?elem=title&track=product  
> general references for this fic: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/holdontoyourheart/heist-wives-wedding-without-hesitation-verse/


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